


Breaking (Up)

by Pastel_Teacups



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Break Up, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 15:29:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/pseuds/Pastel_Teacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac decides it isn't working out. Jehan's crushed, and the Amis is out for blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking (Up)

“It just isn’t working for either of us.” Courfeyrac explained, trying desperately to look anywhere but at the sniffling poet sitting on his couch.

“What do you mean?” Jehan said, his voice small. His eyes were watery, and he quickly wiped his cheek off with the sleeve of his light pink sweater. He looked up at the brunette, who was pacing around his living room. He miraculously avoided the blonde man’s ridiculously large eyes, instead looking away completely. 

“You know what I mean, Jean. Neither of us are happy.” 

Courfeyrac heard a tiny _thump_. When he looked up, Jehan was crumbled on the couch hopelessly, his face hidden by his hair and a mass of pillows. “You called me Jean. You never call me that.” 

Courfeyrac felt his heart sink, and looked away. No. He had to follow through. Hold his ground. “I’m sorry. It just doesn’t work with us.” 

Jehan sat very still for a moment, before he abruptly scrambled to his feet. There was a red flower behind his hair but it fell out, and now sat forgotten on the couch. 

“Fine.” He said, his voice breaking. He wiped his eyes with his long fingers and stalked to the door, throwing it open after picking up his coat with a sniffle. 

Then, he was gone.  
\--  
Honestly, it took longer than he expected. 

Jehan was such a beloved member of the Amis, the simple thought of seeing him even a little ticked off made most of the group want to commit murder. 

So, when he got a call half an hour after the incident occurred, he knew what to expect. 

“What the holy hell is the matter with you?” It was Eponine. Courfeyrac didn’t bother with pleasantries, realizing it wasn’t the time. 

“Nothing’s wrong with me. We weren’t working, and neither of us were happy.” 

“He was happy!” Eponine yelled, and Courfeyrac cringed just a bit. Eponine may have looked harmless, though in reality she was quite terrifying. “What makes you think you can destroy the only ball of sunshine in this entire city and get away with it?” 

Courfeyrac huffed, leaning back. “Trust me, I know.” Then, after a pause, he had to ask. “How is he?” 

“He’s destroyed!” Eponine yelled into the phone, making Courfeyrac nearly drop his own mobile. “You’ve absolutely ruined him him for people. He left ten minutes ago because he wanted to be alone.” 

Courfeyrac closed his eyes. Jehan hated being alone. “That’s-” 

“Terrible, I know!” 

“I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just wasn’t happy.” 

He was talking to nobody. Eponine had hung up.   
\--  
Just his luck, here was an Amis meeting that night. He’d completely forgotten.

When he stepped through the door’s to the Musain’s back room, all noise and motion stopped. He could feel eyes on him, but he didn’t dare looked up to meet the gazes. 

When he sat down in his place between Enjolras and Combeferre, he felt even felt their icy stares freezing him out. 

Soon enough, the sound and movement resumed, but Combeferre’s eyes didn’t move, boring into Courfeyrac’s skull.

After a while, he couldn’t take it. “Stop staring at me.” 

“I want you to look at him.” Combeferre’s voice was level, calm, but his anger seethed behind his spectacles in his eyes. 

“No.” 

“Just look.” 

Courfeyrac let out an indignant sigh, finally raising his eyes to the Amis and, most importantly, Jehan. 

He was still in his pink sweater, but the rest of him looked disheveled and messy. 

His blonde braid was unruly, strands of light hair in his face and eyes. They were bloodshot and puffy, and still looked teary. Marius, Eponine, and Joly were sitting next to him, murmuring soft words to him. Jehan only nodded at them, and drew his knees to his chest. 

Courfeyrac looked away, glancing back at Combeferre, who finally glanced down at his papers. “You’re going to have everyone in this room as your enemy, Courf.” 

“I know.” He agreed. He hadn’t missed the vengeful glances everyone’d been giving him. 

“Be careful who you dump,” Combeferre replied unapologetically, leaning back in his seat.   
\--  
“What the hell did you do?” Grantaire asked as Courfeyrac left the Musain, following him down the street. 

“You know what I did.” Everybody seemed to have intimate knowledge on the subject. 

“But why? I mean, he’s amazing, for one thing, doesn’t have an enemy in the world. And you knew by breaking his heart you’d have an armada of Prouvaire fangirls and boys coming after you.”

“Because I wasn’t happy. And neither was he. He tried to convince himself he was, but he wasn’t.” 

He thought Grantaire would at least be upset, but the drunkard only smiled and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. 

“Must’ve taken some bravery.” 

Courfeyrac smiled softly in response, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

At least he had one person on his side.   
\--  
The next person to call was a surprise to Courfeyrac. When he answered his cell phone, he didn’t expect the voice on the other line to sniffle and speak in a delicate, perfect voice. 

“Courf? It’s me.” Jehan. There was a tiny bit of firmness hidden under his soft voice, and Courfeyrac paused. 

“Yeah, hi, Jehan. What do you need?” He asked, easing himself onto the couch.

There’s a heavy sigh, and then Jehan’s voice sounds again. “I just . . . I wanted to apologize, I suppose. I didn’t want them to bother you, I asked them to just leave it, but they wouldn’t. I don’t want things to be like that. I think we could be friends. If you want to, I mean.” 

“No, yeah, that’s okay. They just want to protect you.” Courfeyrac said, nodding to himself. “Yeah, I’d like that. I do want to be friends. You know you’re still brilliant, right?” 

Despite everything, Jehan laughed softly. “Yeah. I know.” 

They talked for a moment longer, laughed, hung up. 

When Courfeyrac set down his phone, the room felt a little bit brighter.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Please let me what you think!


End file.
